Even Now
by cklls
Summary: Draco has a one-sided conversation with someone very, very special to him... A story inspired by Barry Manilow's "Even Now."


It was like a punch to the gut, hearing the lyrics of that song. "Even Now," I think, was the title. It captured every bit of self-torture I've experienced for the last nine years as though its writer had been living inside my heart and soul. I couldn't escape the elevator of that Muggle building, and the interminable ride to the forty-sixth floor forced me to listen to every mournful note and every wrenching word. I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, praying to whatever deity might be listening that I wouldn't start crying in public. That was reserved for the dark of night and the privacy of the bed I shared with someone whom I'd rather have been someone else, or for my morning shower when my tears were indistinguishable from the scalding water.

Don't take that to mean that I don't love my wife. I do. Really. It's just that she's not my first - not the one who truly set me on fire and calmed me completely, depending on the moment and the circumstance.

Let me tell you, though, that I'm not under any illusions about how perfect we were together. Everybody knows we used to fight like cats and dogs, but her passion - over absolutely everything and anything - was one of the things I loved best about her. Still do, truth be told. Maybe because we were so young when we married, we didn't have the skills or the maturity to cope with all of our problems, and we were both naïve enough to think that since we'd made it out of the war alive, we could handle anything. Some things, yes, we figured out how to do. Others, like with you, we were so lost…

Sorry, but as bad as it was to lose her… I don't have to tell you; you hear it nearly every day, don't you? Damn, why do I never have a handkerchief when I need one? That's the kind of thing Hermione would do that my wife wouldn't even think of. There'd always be something that she did - something tiny and insignificant to anyone else - that made me feel so well cared-for. I tried to be that for her, especially after you, but I was never as good as she was at figuring out what people needed and how to give it to them. Except maybe in bed, but that's _not_ a conversation I'm going to have with you.

I really wish I knew where she was, and how she's doing. Does she ever come to see you? I've never seen her here, but you know I come at odd times, so… I wish. I wish… Hey, you're not allowed to laugh when I'm ready to bawl my eyes out, buddy. Sometimes it mystifies me that people think I've recovered from the loss so well. "Draco," they say, "you're on top of the world." I suppose on the surface, it would appear that way. Lovely wife, beautiful daughter, successful business – all ought to add up to unending happiness, right? So why do I still feel like I'm shattered? I go through the motions, but inside… inside, I'm still chewed up. It's been nine years, I remind myself. Shouldn't I have recovered from all of that by now?

Did I tell you my wife is pregnant again? Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I. Emilia is already almost three. I know; it's hard to believe. She's growing so fast, and she looks just like her mother. When I hear her giggling around the corner, though, I always expect to see a child with curly blonde hair - what a little girl with Hermione would have looked like. If Em didn't have those bright grey eyes, her straight black hair would never peg her as a Malfoy.

When you were born, your eyes were blue, like my mother's. They started to lighten when you hit about eight months old, then they were just like mine. Your hair, though, that was just like mine from the minute you emerged from your mother's womb. Everyone knew in a single glance that you were my kid. Right from the beginning, you had your mother's brains. So curious, so bright, so quick to learn. She was so proud of every little thing you did. Me, too, of course. Who could have known…?

I miss you both so much. I wish… I wish we'd found a way to reverse what happened before it was too late. Every Healer, every doctor… none of them had a way to fix you, to cure you. Children aren't supposed to die of cancer. Children aren't supposed to die of _anything, _most especially babies who aren't even two yet. I wish I'd been strong enough to help your mother with the loss of you, but I wasn't strong enough to even help myself. Even now, I wonder how tall you'd be, or whether you'd have grown to like Quidditch better than chess. Even now, I think at least ten times a day about things I should have said or done differently. If we had to lose you, did we really have to lose each other, too? Even now, when I have a wife who loves me and whom I love, and a daughter I adore, and a new baby on the way, I think about the family I lost. Even if the new baby is a boy, he'll never take your place, Scorpius, because you'll always be my first. And I'll always love you and your mother above everyone. Even now, when you've both been gone for so long.

_Draco pressed his fingers to his lips, then to the name engraved into the marble headstone. After a moment, he turned and walked away, alone, from his little boy's final resting place, his heart as heavy and broken as it had been each and every time. Even now, he felt the ache upon realizing that her hand was not there to take._


End file.
